Misadventures in Mommyhood…tales from a manic mommy

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Childbirth…the Aftermath

Warning: Some material may not be appropriate for the weak stomached or members of the opposite sex.

Okay, so I gave birth to my sweet baby J four and a half weeks ago. Life has been a blur of breasts, poopy diapers and more breasts. I have become a human milk dispenser with little time for anything else. But that’s a whole ‘nother story that I’ll save for later. (FYI, it has taken me six days to write this post – someone needs to invent a way to multi-task while breastfeeding…)

Before I forget (yes, the “mom-nesia” is a real phenomenon or we would never agree to procreate again) I need to document all the fun things that happen after that sweet bundle of joy is placed in your arms and you think the trauma to your body is over. No my friends, it is far, far from over. Even four weeks later, going to the bathroom is still a traumatic experience.

So they placed sweet baby J in my arms covered in goo and I fell in love. It honestly is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced, hands down. But then they whisk her away while the Dr. attempts to repair the extraordinary damage that happens “down there” when you try to squeeze a watermelon out of the opening of the size of a grape. They asked if I wanted a mirror so I could watch her being born (umm…HELL NO…I am a bit squeamish at the sight of my own blood). And I think seeing my flesh ripping as she made her entrance would have made me pass out right there.

Little did I know that the ice pack, stool softener and Tucks hemorrhoid pads would become my best friends for the next month. We’ve grown quite close actually. I think if I were to have another child, I would have to name it Tuck. Oh yeah, and I can’t forget the pads and underwear. Actually, to be totally honest, they are really adult diapers disguised as maxi pads. They are the biggest things I have ever seen. And when you add in the ice pack and the tucks, you can hardly sit up straight, let alone walk.

And I decided to breast feed (again, an entire topic for later)…but no one told me about the massive contractions you get when you first start. I swear I thought there was another baby in my stomach…that is how freaking strong they were. Thank God the nurse was in the room with me to explain or I would have completely wigged out. And Thank God for Percocet. Also one of my BFFs during these post partum weeks.

Also, no one also tells you that you need to plan about a half hour for each time you go the bathroom. First of all, it is so freaking painful that you have to psych yourself up just to actually go, then it takes another good 20 minutes just to clean, disinfect and put on all the gear (see above) just so you don’t bleed out all over your house.

Did anyone else have night sweats? And I’m not talking a minor hot flash during the night…I am talking hair drenching, clothes soaked and husband completely grossed out to where I have to dry myself off with a towel and change clothes night sweats. They are absolutely disgusting and I have never washed sheets so much in my life.

I could go on and on, but I’ll spare some of the gory details, plus, guess what? I’ve got to go feed again. And I’d like to get this posted before she turns three.

Until next time (hopefully sometime soon!)

Marnie

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About marniefernandez

Official kid wrangler of four. Step mom, adoptive mom & bio mom. City girl turned country bumpkin. Small town girl next door married to Hollywood sniper/moto-cross/ninja architect. Career girl turned stay-at-home mom with baby on hip. Permanent taxi-cab driver, schedule organizer and professional laundress. (When not chasing kids...) Mommy blogger, columnist, travel writer and consultant. And no, I don't sleep. And yes, I take Prozac. And drink wine from sippy cups.